


Empty Towers

by KingLeo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Death, Grief/Mourning, I'm out of practice at tagging, Minor Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Minor Fjord/Jester Lavorre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLeo/pseuds/KingLeo
Summary: The Mighty Nein learn the fate of Essek.Special thanks to Dani @inkforwords on twitter for allowing me to use her tweet idea and artistic interpretation of Verin. Even more thanks because my gosh it's been a long time since I've written anything.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 27
Kudos: 107





	Empty Towers

It had been so long since they’d been in the Xhorhouse that it took a moment to get their bearings. Caleb’s teleportation spells always left the group a little disoriented, and being in a once familiar space turned alien added to that. 

The house held an eerie stillness, an all consuming quiet that hung in the air like a palpable presence all its own. Looking around the room, each of the Nein broke off slowly. Beau and Caleb took a moment to quickly inspect the closest rooms for signs of tampering. Meanwhile Fjord channeled his goddess’ divine powers to see the unseen, searching for anything. 

All seemed in order. 

Jester startled everyone when she clapped suddenly, face bright. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” she said as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Her tail waved quickly behind her as she faced the group. “We should go see Essek!” 

“But...we just got here.” Beau’s tone was flat, her face mirroring the sentiment. 

“But we haven’t seen him in so long!” Jester protested. “We could drop in on him, it could be a surprise!” 

“Come on,” Caduceus said. He leaned on his staff and offered a warm smile. “Could be fun. Change check out the town while we’re at it, see if anything’s changed.” 

“Fair point,” Caleb said. The wizard looked pensive, though that was far from unusual for him. 

After a brief bout of cajoling, the group headed to the streets. As they walked, though, they felt that odd heaviness lingering. Once or twice, they swore they caught sidelong glances and heard whispers as people hurried away. 

“It’s probably just from how famous we are now,” Jester said, waving a hand. 

“Celebrity comes in many forms,” Caleb murmured. 

As they drew near the tower, the feeling of foreboding turned into a heavy weight in their stomachs. Something was wrong. As they headed up the steps to the door, Jester stopped with a gasp and clapped a hand to her mouth. 

The grand doors of the tower had been locked together with several loops of a heavy chain. Deep purple runes marked each link, glowing faintly in the eternal twilight of the capitol city. They were fastened with an ornate lock that bore similar sigils. A large piece of parchment was glued over the place the doors met. Beau worked her way to the front, recognizing the text as Undercommon. Her scowl deepened as she read. 

“Let it hereby be known that these premises are off limits to any and all save those appointed blah blah..” She skimmed down. “Unauthorized entry is subject to trial blah blah legalese bullshit…...By order of the Bright Queen..” 

The group stood in shocked silence. After a moment, Caleb muttered a few arcane words and pushed his way to stand beside Beau, allowing his mind enchanted by the Tongue’s spell to read the notice for himself. And read it again. Every word etched itself into his mind, spelling out only a single possibility. 

“No…” The word hardly held enough of his breath to sound. 

“State your business,” a firm voice called from behind them. 

The group turned, Yasha’s hand instinctively reaching for her sword. The drow who had spoken narrowed his eyes, placing his hand meaningfully on his own weapon. 

“Don’t,” he said firmly. There was a familiar command to his tone. Fjord touched Yasha’s shoulder, clasping it firmly and shaking his head. She relaxed, and the Drow did the same, though his hand only moved to rest on the pommel of his weapon.

He was handsome, a bit taller and more wellbuilt than many Drow they had met. He had a square jaw and sharp features. His hair was braided at his temple and crown, both pulled back to meet behind his head where the rest hung loose. From his forehead to his jaw was a long, jagged scar. The eye it crossed was white, no doubt blinded by the attack that had caused it. It made his other eye seem to blaze. He had a face for smiling, which made the hard scowl leveled at them now all the more severe. 

He wore fine darkened plate, similar to much of what they’d seen many soldiers of the Dynasty wearing. His bore a little more ornamentation, though right alongside it were the marks and scars of battle. This was not for show. Along with the sword on his hip, he wore a shield affixed to his back. Over the armor plates on his left arm was a simple silken band of black, tied and hanging from his bicep. 

“I ask again, state your business,” he said again, then repeated the same in Elvan and Undercommon for good measure. 

“We came to see the tower,” Fjord said. “It looked...so lovely from a distance.” Lying felt unnatural and clumsy to him right now. It was clear the weak ruse hadn’t worked. Caleb stepped up. 

“We are the Mighty Nein,” he said. “We have acted in service to the Bright Queen in the past.” He presented the crest, keeping it half hidden within his coat before putting it away once more. “We mean no harm…” 

“What’s your name?” Jester asked quickly. “Your armor is pretty fancy, you must be someone really important.” 

The Drow’s eyes cut to Jester. “...Not as much as some think themselves,” he said. He took the measure of the group, eyes lingering on Caleb before he relaxed. “...My name is Verin Thelyss.” 

“Oh!” Jester looked back at the others as her bright smile returned. She looked to Verin again. “Is Essek your brother?” 

The silence that followed was heavy. A multitude of emotions shifted almost visibly across Verin’s face. His grip on his sword tightened.

“Essek…was my brother,” he corrected. 

That heaviness returned, this time three fold. 

“Was,” Beau managed before anyone else could speak. “What the fuck does that mean…” 

“We shouldn’t be seen speaking,” Verin said quickly. “You have a home in this district, yes? Go, I will follow you shortly.” With that, he turned sharply, a bit of light gleaming off the silvered Luxon symbol on his shield. 

\--------------

The walk home was silent. A few of the Nein were reminded of the trudge following Mollymauk’s death. Upon returning to the house, Caduceus immediately set about making tea. Beau sought out a bottle of something strong, pouring herself a glass and downing half of it in a single draw. One by one, they filed into the dining room, sitting around the large table. Silence hung over them still, no one brave enough to break it. 

The knock at the door in the entry sounded loud in the still house. For a moment, no one moved. Thoughts of despair turned to panic. 

“What if they try to arrest us?” Caleb muttered. 

“Like he just went away to round up some goons?” Beau sneered. “Bring em on, I don’t give a FUCK!” 

Yasha seemed to share that sentiment, looking tense. Fjord shook his head. 

“Fighting is a terrible idea!” he said in a hissing whisper. “It will only make things worse!” 

Caduceus set a tray with a kettle and cups down, then quietly slipped from the room. The chimes above the door stopped all further discussion as everyone’s blood ran cold. They heard Caducues’ low rumble and another voice, then the chimes sounded again as the door was shut. A moment later, Caduceus appeared in the doorway, Verin just behind him. 

“Have a little faith,” Caduceus said. He set about filling each cup, setting them in front of each of his companions and one at an empty seat. He gestured with a half smile to Verin. “Please.” 

The Drow hesitated, then nodded. His sword and shield were missing now, which offered the smallest bit of comfort. Clearing his throat, Verin settled into the offered seat, looking between the group before he spoke. 

“I thought it best to have a longer conversation in private,” he said. “Too many prying eyes and ears on the street.” He took a deep breath. “Though...my house has not been implicated in any wrongdoings, people are still suspicious right now.” He curled his fingers around the mug. “...Where would you like me to start?” 

“After the peace talks,” Caleb said. His accent was heavy, marring his words. 

“Alright,” Verin said with a nod. “I cannot tell you everything but…” He looked among the faces that stared at him so earnestly. “Essek trusted you, so...I can tell you what I know. I was recalled from Bazzoxan a short while ago at the request of the Bright Queen and her council. My brother had surrendered himself to the guards, stating that he had orchestrated many of the events that ended in theft of the beacon. I was to be both character witness and suspected accomplice. 

“Essek explained he had acted alone, and that his own ambition had driven him to commit high treason and blasphemy against our people and our nation. Repeatedly, he swore no one aided him, not myself, not other members of the Den….” His gaze shifted among them. “...And not the Mighty Nein. He swore that all of you had found out by accident, and he had set everything in motion long before any of you were even in the picture.” 

Verin fell silent a moment, contemplating and sipping at the tea Caduceus had given him. Everyone knew what had happened next. He didn’t have to say it. But they needed to hear it. 

“He was found guilty,” Verin went on. “Because he surrendered himself, he was not stricken from knowledge. He was stripped of his title, and a few told him that it was good that his soul would die with him, for to inherit such a traitorous and self-serving legacy would not be something they wished on their worst enemies. He was sentenced to be branded a villain...and to be put to death.” 

Another slow sip. The knife hanging over them trembled until Verin spoke again. 

“They carried out the sentence about a fortnight ago,” he said. “They did him the honor of a clean, quick death, something many said he did not deserve.” 

Jester burst into tears, throwing herself into Fjord’s chest. He held her tightly, trying to still the trembling in his own hands. Yasha stared at the table, eyes lidded and heavy, face unreadable. Veth’s jaw was set hard, and she focused on drinking her tea with a little too much intensity. Caduceus wore a frown as he busied himself refilling cups. The ceramic lid of the kettle clicked and clattered quietly. 

Beau slammed her fist onto the table once, twice, then stood as she let out a bellow of pain. She spun and punched the wall behind her, knocking dust loose from the rafters and causing the stone beneath her fist to crack. 

Caleb....just stared. He was lost, mind reeling through every moment with the quiet Shadowhand. Studying together, dinner at this very table, achievements, breakthroughs...the pain of learning what he had done. Essek...Caleb could see beautiful eyes the colour of ice gazing at him, glints of silver and white against a canvas of violet balck. Supple lips smiling, luring, speaking in that soft, timelessly wise way..

“I am...sorry you all had to find out this way,” Verin said after clearing his throat. He rubbed his palm against his good eye. “Essek spoke fondly of you. In one of our last conversations...he told me you would eventually come, and asked that I look out for you.” 

There were a few nods, but Verin was fairly certain it had mostly fallen on deaf ears. He could see Beau’s shoulders rising and falling rapidly, fist still planted against the wall. 

“As I said...he swore under multiple forms of interrogation that you all had nothing to do with his plots,” Verin went on. “But..I would still advise caution. I am not as highly stationed as my brother, and I will likely be sent back to my post soon. There isn’t a great deal I can do for you, but…” He sighed and shook his head. “We weren’t close, but I will not deny his request.” 

“We can bring him back!” Jester wailed suddenly. She whirled to look at Verin, half vaulting herself onto the table as she did. “Where is he?! Where is his body?!” 

Verin was taken aback, eyes wide as he leaned away. Caduceus placed a large hand on his shoulder, though his placid gaze was on Jester. 

“I doubt it’s that easy,” he drawled. Verin cleared his throat and shook his head. 

“I-It’s forbidden,” he said, slowly regaining his composure. “His body was burned and scattered to the winds-” 

Jester rounded on Caleb. 

“What about in his tower?!” she said. Tears streamed down her face in twin rivers of pain. “H-He had to have a hair brush or something right?! His hair was always so perfect..” 

Fjord carefully gathered her against himself, holding her tightly. She trembled in his arms as she sobbed. Yasha pressed her chest to Jester’s back, hugging her and resting one hand on Fjord’s arm. Beau returned, throwing herself down with an angry grunt next to Caleb. 

“It does not matter,” Caleb finally said. “If we were to break into the tower, we...would be considered accomplices.” He glanced to Verin and received a nod of affirmation. 

“Worth it,” Beau growled out. “He’d do it for us.” 

“No he wouldn’t,” Veth spat, finally breaking her silence. “He was a criminal, and he got what he deserved!” She pushed herself up, hands flat on the table. She continued, despite the glares leveled at her. “He knew the risks he was taking. He gambled and lost and we should just be glad he didn’t take us-” 

“Veth that is enough,” Caleb snapped, his voice sharp. 

Veth paused, mouth half open as she met Caleb’s burning eyes. Her teeth clicked as she set her jaw and brows furrowed. She made a noise under her breath and left the table. 

“Veth wait,” Caduceus tried to call after her, but she was already gone. 

Beau thumped Yasha on the shoulder and asked her to join her in a training session. Fjord quietly excused himself and Jester, guiding the sobbing tiefling out of the room and up the stairs. 

The remaining three sat in silence for several moments. It was comfortable in the same way watching a house fire was soothing. 

“We’re normally better than this,” Caduceus said. Verin shook his head. 

“It isn’t often you find out you’ve lost a friend,” he said, then looked between the pair. “At least...I would hope it’s not for you.” 

“It is a rare occurrence,” Caleb said. “But he is not the first...nor do I think he will be the last.” He sniffed, trying to hide in his collar. 

Verin stood, clearing his throat. 

“I should go,” he said. “I don’t know if there are eyes on this place. Expect a summons, though.” He paused, then reached into a pouch on his side. He unfolded a long envelope that had been carefully tucked away. “Forgive the creasing,” he said, laying it in front of Caleb. The wizard’s name was written in beautiful script across the front. “He told me you would come..and wanted me to give you this. He said he knew you’d blame yourself.” 

Caleb laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. He picked up the envelope, rubbing his thumbs across either side of it. He whispered a barely audible ‘thank you’. 

“I’ll see you out,” Caduceus said, offering Verin a warm smile. 

As they walked to the door, Verin tilted his head at the firbolg. 

“Does your race not grieve?” he asked. “Or did you dislike my brother as the halfling seems to?” 

Caduceus shook his head, letting out a low, warm chuckle. 

“Not at all, I liked the guy,” he said. “Death has been part of my life since I was a kid. It’s sort of the family business.” He waited a beat, enjoying the look of tension on Verin’s face before he smiled. “We’re gravekeepers,” he clarified. “I’ve seen every kind of grief, every stage of it. Death’s a natural part of life, even...when it’s unnatural.” 

He took a slow breath, reaching to clasp Verin’s shoulder. 

“You should let yourself grieve too, you know?” 

Verin paused as he adjusted his sword belt, looking up at the big creature. The placid smile was still in place. 

“He was your brother,” Caduceus said. “Even if you didn’t get along all the time, he was family. Even if you’re ashamed of what he did, you clearly care about his wishes. Which means you still carry a lot of love for him.” 

Verin just stared at him a long moment, then chuckled faintly. 

“You’re an odd one,” he said. “But...I will keep your words in mind.” He settled his shield over his back once more. “I will be in touch. Please be careful, and keep your heads down.” 

“We’ll try,” Caduceus said with a nod. “You too.” 

The chimes jingled twice. 

\-------------------

Caleb closed and locked the door to his room. He took his time laying out a spell, Frumpkin walking along beside his feet. It was a tight fit, but after a few moments, the orange gold dome appeared in the middle of his room. With a thought and a wave of his hand, he shifted the colour to a deep purple. 

He needed something soundproof, both within and without. 

Stepping into it, he knelt in the middle, settling himself as he drew the letter out of his pocket once more. Trembling hands carefully opened the envelope and removed the neatly folded letter. More of that neat script covered the page, addressing him by name. 

As he read, he blinked back tears. He held the letter out in front of him, refusing to allow a single drop to smear the ink. It was both confession and apology, regret and resignation. Caleb’s heart ached as he read on. 

Once read, the letter remained in his mind, played over and over in that dearly familiar voice which would never sound again. Carefully, he folded it up once more and tucked it safely between the pages of his spell book. 

Then he bowed his head and sobbed, screaming to the wood floorboards all the agony in his heart. Loss was forever his lot, it seemed. Things he loved, things that were beautiful, bright sparks in his life, were all doomed to ash. 

He threw his head back and cried out in Zemnian, cursing whatever fate had damned him to this endless cycle. His clenched fists shook, the scars in his arms aching with fresh fury, imperfect channels of his rage and his pain. 

He screamed until his voice cracked and silenced. 

A gentle weight alighted on his lap, and Frumpkin sat there, staring up with unearthly eyes at the wizard. Caleb blinked, then gathered the cat against him. He pressed his face into his fur, and the feline familiar uttered a purr for him. 

He slumped over onto his side, sobbing himself to sleep, sequestered from the others by a dome of silence.


End file.
